


Am I Crazy!?

by The_Loving_Embrass_Of_Death



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2ps Doin' The Diddly, America's Annoying, Based on a Tumblr Post, England's Fairies, France's Annoying, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Sex, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pancakes!, Sappy, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Loving_Embrass_Of_Death/pseuds/The_Loving_Embrass_Of_Death
Summary: Written based on a prompt I found on Tumblr.Someone who does not typically see magical creatures gets to see England’s magical friends for a dayPrompt by: hetaprompts-blogHope it's any good
Relationships: 2P Canada/2P England, Canada/England (Hetalia)
Kudos: 7





	Am I Crazy!?

It had been a long weekend for Canada over at England’s house. He was feeling kind of home sick, I mean he knew that it used to be his home but that was over a century ago. He tried to enjoy his time with the latter but whenever he would get to spend some with the brit or do something nice for him someone would just interrupt them without fail.

The first time this happened was when he and England were sitting on the porch having some earl grey tea, England’s favorite, and enjoying lovely conversation. Things were perfect until France decided to come and “save Canada” from the English influence. After that the two European countries spent pretty much the entire day up until dinner arguing with each other and completely ignoring Canada.

The second time, England wanted to be nice to his former colony, so he booked a table at the “best restaurant in London” as he called it. They got into their best dress and went out to dinner. The food was transcendent and not too expensive. When they were done they went out for a little walk in the park, admiring the stars that seemed to pop out of the sky when they heard some odd noise from behind a bush. They turned and approached with caution, but when they peered over it the sight made both of them back away and blush furiously. They had accidentally seen their 2p’s getting “down and diddly” as Prussia would put it.

The Third time was in the early morning. Canada, a naturally early riser, decided that he should repay the country, currently sound asleep upstairs, by making breakfast. Any country that knows Canada knows that he’s the king of breakfast. Canada had just finished up everything; scrambled eggs and Sunnyside up, Canadian bacon (which isn’t an actual Canadian product), toast on the homemade bread he had made the day before, a fruit tray with fresh picked fruit from the garden, orange juice and most importantly, Canada’s pride and joy, Pancakes! Everything was set on the table when America came barging into the house yelling about this new movie he got from japan that they needed to watch right now. England came down the stairs to get America out and, to his surprise, when he got down stairs he saw Canada becoming growingly impatient while America was stuffing his face with the best looking breakfast he’s seen in years. Much to his dismay it was nearly all gone. And when they finally got America out of the house the food was completely inedible because one of two reasons: 1. it had a bite or bite mark in it. Or 2. It was covered in ketchup.

And the fourth time, they both agreed to never speak of that again. Ever.

And that was more or less everything that’s happened on this trip so far. Right now, England was in the garden weeding, with Canada reading one of his favorite books on a couch that peers over the well kept garden, expecting someone to come and ruin their day, when out of nowhere Canada pretty much shrieked.

England looked back at the nation with concern and shock that a nation that quiet can become so loud in a matter of seconds. He was frightened because he couldn’t even begin to imagine what could cause such a strong nation to act so petrified.

“ENGLAND!! Do you see those fairies behind you?!” shrieked the frightened slightly smaller man.

England was dumbfounded and slightly confused. ‘Was he talking about my magic fairies? But I thought that only me, Norway, Romania, and Egypt were able to see those?’ he mused.

“What fairies are you talking about? Can you point to them?” England yelled while approaching the Canadian.

Canada lifted a shaky arm and pointed to the small shed off the side of the gardens left fence. The other faced towards the shed and noticed that his fairies were indeed there; Trixie, the pink one, and Scarlet, the red one.

“Tell me, Canada. Are these fairies you see red and pink?” queried England.

Without a word, Canada just nodded, his small frame quivering. The Englishman approached the shaking man and wrapped his arms around him soothingly. After the trembling died down he whispered in the others ear.

“Those fairies you saw, are real. Only a few of us countries can see them, the red one is Scarlet, and the pink one is Trixie.” whispered the latter.

Canada looked ahead confusedly until it finally sank in, he was rather understanding and a accepting but this was too much for his brain to process, he couldn’t believe what he was being told. Fairies, little humanoid creatures that can fly, are real? Not only were they real, but only certain people can see them, and he, the forgettable Canada, was one of those select few?

“Why me?” was all Canada could squeak out in his time of self-doubt.

England squeezed his arms around Canada a little tighter “They chose you. You see, we aren’t blessed with the gift of fairy sight at birth, fairies choose you and give you the sight. One of those fairies must have thought that you really deserved it because a fairy can only grant 1 person this power.”

Canada turned in the embrace to look England in the eye “They chose me? But why would they chose boring old me?”

England pulled Canada closer and connected their lips with a chaste kiss. Fingers feather light against Canada’s forehead when he brushed away the stray strands of silky smooth hair from Canada’s pale face.

England pulled away and looked deep into Canada’s eyes “You aren’t boring, Or forgettable, or any other awful thing you thought about yourself. You’re kind, considerate, helpful, beautiful, and hopefully I can call you my boyfriend?”

Canada sat perplexed for a moment but when it all sank in his face turned redder than one of Romano’s Tomatoes and a small, shy smile broke out across his face “Merci pour me dire ces choses… and, I wouldn’t mind it if you called me your boyfriend.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Merci pour me dire ces choses" Is French for "Thank you for telling me those things"


End file.
